


To My Love

by OwenToDawn



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Frottage, Grief/Mourning, Love Confessions, M/M, Reconciliation, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Ranulf chases Ike across several continents to convince him he doesn't have to live in solitude
Relationships: Ike/Lay | Ranulf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	To My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Hi. This has taken me three years to write. I'm not entirely happy with the end result but it's done and honestly it's hard to have something meet your own personal standards after spending three years picking it apart. 
> 
> I did my best to make timelines and universe rules line up together but essentially this is a story that examines how Ranulf and Ike's paired ending works. Also there's only like 600 words of smut in here so if that's what you're here for sorry lol 
> 
> Comments are of course loved. 
> 
> Title from a track of the same name from Fire Emblem Path of Radiance

Ike knows he must leave. There’s no way to pass through Tellius without being recognized, and despite their best intentions, he knows it’s only a matter of time before some royal demands his services and with their shared history, Ike knows he won’t be able to refuse. His chest aches as he pens his letter of resignation.

He sets the quill aside and gazes around the study, the one that had been his father’s. He remembers sitting on the opposite side of the table, eager for battle and for a chance to prove himself to Greil, to make him proud. Sitting here now, Ike wonders if he would be proud. He fought and won against Ashnard, against the Black Knight, against the Goddess herself. He _should_ be proud of himself.

All he can think about are his father’s dying words, urging him to live a life of peace, far away from the conflict.

Ike signs the letter ceding control of the mercenaries to Mist. He knows he should say goodbye. On his way out, he passes Mist’s door. It’s unlatched and easy to nudge open with his foot. Unfiltered moonlight streams in through her open window. She’s curled around one of her pillows, fingers clinging to the fabric. He impresses her face in his mind and for a brief moment he contemplates staying. He’s the center of Mist’s universe. She’s told him so countless times.

But he can’t. To stay is to risk putting them all in unimaginable danger once more and it’s only a matter of time before their luck runs out. He closes the door and continues down the hall.

Memories echo in the walls. Arguing with Boyd, training with Oscar, going over books with Rhys. Meeting Elincia. His first kiss with Mia after the Mad King’s War. Soren’s confession of his true lineage. His realization that he missed Ranulf the way one missed a lover, not a friend.

There’s too much to lose on accident, so he must lose it by choice. He locks the door behind him, then slides the key back under the door so as not to give himself an excuse to come back. He’d leave Ragnell behind too if it wasn’t so monumentally irresponsible, but he takes it with him.

Ike leaves home and doesn’t look back.

-.-

He’s almost through Daein by the time anyone catches up with him, and unsurprisingly, the one who does is Volke. When Ike opens the door to his room in Daein’s eastern-most inn, he finds Volke perched on his windowsill. With a sigh, Ike sets his bag on the ground. Volke steps down from the windowsill and uncovers his face before glancing at the open door.

“You gonna shut that?” Volke asks.

Ike nudges the door shut with his foot and keeps his hand on Ragnell’s handle. “Why are you here?”

“If it was to kill you, you’d be dead already,” Volke says. “I am here on business though, your sister’s. You told her how to find me.”

“You’re a good person to know and I’m not going to be around to help her,” Ike says.

"I’m supposed to ask you to go back,” Volke says. “Though knowing you, it was a waste of your sister’s money.”

“And your time.” Ike moves to sit on the bed, elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “I have to leave.”

“I agree. If you stay, your mere presence will encourage war as a solution to the peoples’ woes. Your leadership and your skills make you an unmatched weapon more than that sword does.”

Ike glances over at him. “Micaiah came close.”

Volke shakes his head. “Micaiah became a leader by offering hope to a desperate and embittered people, and then sold her loyalty to anyone who looked at her with anything close to approval. And your power…that will always outmatch us all, except for maybe Greil.”

“Did Mist pay extra for you to sit here and compliment me all night?” Ike asks.

“My opinion comes free of charge this time.”

Ike’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “You should give her a refund. You’ve done a terrible job convincing me to stay.”

“I’ve never been great at anything other than killing.” Volke looks out the window at the desert. “You got a plan to get through that?”

“The laguz can.”

“You’re not a laguz.”

“No, but I know how to get through. I asked Nailah, told her it was for the future when I visited.”

“She’ll be disappointed you never stopped to see her.”

“I accepted that I was going to disappoint a lot of people when I did this,” Ike says.

Volke looks back at him and tilts his chin down in something close to a nod. “Fair enough. Just one more question.”

“If you must,” Ike says.

“Oh I must, I must,” Volke says, a small smile stretching on his lips before he straightens. “Will this really bring you peace? Wandering off on your own, never settling down and always alone?”

“You of all people are going to ask me that?”

“I’m alone because I have no choice, and I’ve accepted that such peace will never come to me. But you don’t have to spend the rest of your days in solitude. I don’t think it’s something you’d be very good at either,” Volke says. He opens the window and sits down on it, turning so his legs are dangling outside. “I’ve said all I can.”

“Thanks for coming,” Ike says. “Really.”

“I’ll take a message to Mist free of charge as a farewell gift to you,” Volke offers.

Ike shakes his head. “I’ve said everything I’ve need to say.”

Volke nods and leaps from the window. When Ike closes the window moments later, his footprints in the sand are already gone.

-.-

Ranulf sucks down the last bit of water and hands the empty flask back to Nailah who smiles and sets it on the small table beside her chair. 

“So, now that your thirst is quenched, perhaps you can tell me what brings you to my harsh lands?” she asks.

“I’m looking for Ike,” Ranulf says, sinking back into the plush chair. Her study is somehow cool despite the desert heat so the soft fabric doesn’t make him feel worse.

“He hasn’t been here,” she says. “I gave him directions to get through the desert to come, but he never did. He’s gone missing I assume.”

“Sort of,” Ranulf says. “He…he said he was leaving Tellius.”

Nailah raises an eyebrow. “I see.”

“And he was last seen in the small Daein town that boarders the desert so I’d hoped maybe he’d come here, that this would be far enough away.”

"I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

Ranulf looks down at his lap, thinking. “If he’d kept going…would he make it? Has anyone ever made it across?”

“No one in our tribe has ever tried. All we’ve ever wanted was seclusion and we found it. There was no need to go farther, and unlike the beorc, we see no need to colonize and conquer other lands,” she says. “But if he utilized my advice, he’d survive. The desert can’t last forever.”

“So it isn’t suicide if I follow him?” Ranulf asks as he gets to his feet.

“Not necessarily. That doesn’t mean either of you will survive,” she says. She tilts her head to the side, her gaze somehow more probing than Caineghis’ ever was. “Why are you so intent on finding a man who is clearly desperate not to be found?”

“I just…have to. I need to prove him wrong,” Ranulf says.

“About what?”

“He thinks he’s too dangerous to stay, and maybe he’s right about that. There’s a reason Dheginsea avoided conflict for so long, and sure Ike isn’t a dragon laguz but he did defeat a goddess,” Ranulf said. “But…the thought of him dying alone? Thinking solitude is all he can have after everything he’s done? It’s unacceptable.”

Nailah rises out of her chair, crossing the space between them before reaching out and cupping his face. “I have many loyal retainers willing to lay down their life for mine. Ike is lucky to have someone willing to do the same for his happiness.” She drops her hand and paces to the other side of the study. “Volug will give you enough supplies to have a fighting chance. I wish you luck.”

Ranulf leaves the study and tries not to think too hard about her words.

-.-

It takes just over two months, but Ranulf makes it through the desert and into a mountainous region which echoes and trembles with a near constant eruption of volcanic ash and lava. The air reeks of sulfur. Beneath his feet, the ground is almost as hot as the desert sand. Despite the chaos though, there’s an obvious trail through the rocky landscape so he follows it. He’s so distracted by the new smells he doesn’t notice he’s being followed until he’s thrown to the ground.

He ducks into a roll and springs back up to his feet, shifting into his full cat form as he does so. The shift temporarily disperses his exhaustion. It also seems to startle his attacker enough that she’s lowered her weapon. Ranulf stays shifted for a moment longer before changing back. The white-haired woman is smaller than him no matter what form he takes, but she’s almost all muscle and the steel club in her hands looks heavier than what most beorc could wield.

“You’re trespassing,” she says. “This is Fire Tribe land.”

“Fire Tribe? You’re a laguz?” Ranulf asks, taking a step closer. 

She whips the club up, stopping an inch from his chin. “I don’t give information to outsiders.”

“Got it,” Ranulf says, holding his hands up in a pacifying gesture. It doesn’t seem to help. “Look, I’m just searching for a friend.”

“Too bad. Go back to where you came from.”

“Yeah, no I’m not going back through the desert. I’d die if I tried, and honestly it’s a miracle I got this far so if I have to kill you to keep going I will,” Ranulf says.

The woman narrows her eyes and then lowers her club. “The desert? It’s un-crossable but…” She lets her arm fall to her side. “This friend. Does he have blue hair?”

“Yeah. His name’s Ike.”

“He said he came from beyond the desert too,” she said. “If you know him…I’ll escort you out of Fire Tribe lands and replenish your supplies. Just don’t ask any stupid questions, alright?”

“Does asking for your name count as a stupid question?”

“It’s Rinkah,” she says, moving passed him and heading down the trail. “And I don’t really care about your name.”

“It’s Ranulf,” he says and when she glares at him, he gives a tired grin in response.

“I don’t have to help you know,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah. What did he do that was so great that you’re willing to help me?” Ranulf asks, ignoring the ache in his muscles to keep pace with her.

“There was a war. He helped us win,” she said. “I’m sure someone else can tell you about it. I’ll give you directions to Hoshido’s capital. The royal family there should be chatty enough for you.”

Ranulf decides to keep his smart remark to himself.

-.-

Hoshido reminds him a lot of Crimea. The clothing is different, and the people don’t seem to care too much about his ears or tail either, but he’s pretty sure they’ve never seen a laguz. He has a feeling their silence is more out of confusion than acceptance. Then again, it’s not exactly like he asks. He travels slower than he’d like, the desert having taken a toll on his body the way the wars did. His muscle mass is depleted and with it his weight. At night, his muscles cramp and seize up, because no matter how much water he drinks, he still feels dehydrated.

He hopes it’s worth it.

The pain makes him wonder.

-.-

“Tellius must be full of strong warriors if two of you have managed to cross the desert,” Ryoma says.

“Uh-huh,” Ranulf says, more focused on the food in front of him. “Sorry, just…can I eat first?”

Ryoma laughs. “Of course. I’ll have the cooks make more as well. You eat as much as a Wolfskin.”

Ranulf pauses, then swallows his food as quick as he can so he can speak. “You have laguz, here?”

"If by laguz you mean shapeshifters, then yes. I suppose Rinkah didn’t give you much information to go on,” Ryoma says. “The Wolfskin and Kitsune are shape-shifting tribes in Nohr and Hoshido respectively.”

"Huh…were they ever…did you ever enslave them?”

yoma’s expression turns scandalized. “Never! Truly. There are some…unfavorable opinions of the Wolfskin but that has more to do with their marauding tendencies than their shape-shifting. In fact, the royal bloodlines of Nohr and Hoshido both contain that of dragons. My younger sister can transform, though the rest of us have more diluted powers.”

“Huh, what a strange land,” Ranulf says.

“Ike was not very forth-coming about the land he hailed from,” Ryoma says. “And the picture you’re painting dispels some of the questions I had about why he left.”

“Tellius has a…complicated history,” Ranulf says. He finishes the last bite of food and leans back in the chair. “But he didn’t leave because he hated it. He left because he loved it too much.”

“From the time we spent together, that seems very much like him,” Ryoma says.

“What’d he even do? Rinkah said you were chatty and would tell me,” Ranulf says as a second plate is set in front of him.

“There was a war between Hoshido and Nohr,” Ryoma says. “And another country that exists on an alternate plane of reality. Without his military experience, I’m not sure we would’ve made it through.”

“He has that effect,” Ranulf says with a small smile. “He brings hope when it’s been lost.”

“He’s brought peace to Nohr and Hoshido, two countries who have been at war for generations,” Ryoma says. “Your description of him is apt. I never would’ve thought peace was possible without his guidance.” Ryoma leans forward on the table, fixing Ranulf with a careful stare. “But tell me something. I mentioned an alternate reality and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

“Ike fought a goddess and won,” Ranulf says. “He united a continent that had been at war on and off for 700 years. Alternate realities don’t really register on the shock scale.”

“Is that why he left then? Because if he stayed, he’d always be seen as more than a man?” Ryoma asks.

“Perceptive of you,” Ranulf says. “So…do you know where he headed?”

“No, but Hinoka might. I’ll have her take you where she took him,” he says. “He took a ship. Perhaps she knows where.”

“First the desert. Now the ocean,” Ranulf says. “He’s trying to kill me.”

“You must care deeply for him.”

Ranulf looks down at his plate. “Yeah. I guess so.”

-.-

Hinoka buys him passage on a ship bound for a port in a faraway country by the name of Rausten. It’s a journey of eight months, but Hinoka tells him that to her knowledge it’s the only other land anyone in Hoshido knows of due to the distance, and given their own abundance of resources, they knew little about it. Ranulf can’t quite wrap his mind around how many continents existed without their knowledge. He wonders if Dheginsea knew that the Goddess hadn’t drowned the whole world outside of Tellius.

It makes everything they went through seem insignificant. He mentions Ashera once to a fellow passenger and only gets a look of confusion in response. What was Ashera to these people but a common name?

-.-

The ship stops in a small port for two people to board, both in clothing strange to the Hoshido crew and Ranulf. No one seems overly keen on making conversation with them. Really, that just makes Ranulf all the more curious, but there’s an odd part of him that almost doesn’t want to know. He misses home, the people he knows and loves. He doesn’t _want_ to make friends.

That mentality lasts about five days. After being at sea for three months, with a crew that isn’t overly friendly, he gives in and approaches the woman. She reminds him of Mist in the way she carries herself. The man follows her like a shadow so approaching her requires approaching him as well, but he’s oddly easy to ignore.

“You seemed guarded so I’m glad you’ve finally come to say hello,” the woman says when Ranulf joins them at the same table for dinner. “I’m Lyndis. This is Rath.”

“Ranulf,” he says. “I’m from Tellius, well Gallia technically.”

“Rath and I are from the Sacean Plains,” Lyn says. “It’s…not a well traversed area but we decided it’d be nice to get away from everything for a while. Too much conflict.”

“I know the feeling,” Ranulf says, surprised at her nonchalance.

“Did you say Tellius?” Rath asks.

Unlike Lyn, when Ranulf looks at him he can’t pick up on even a hint of a thought when he looks at him. The way he holds himself, the way he speaks, it reminds him of Giffca. Ranulf shoves that thought far away before it goes too far.

“Yeah, why?”

Rath looks back down at his food and doesn’t answer.

"We knew someone else from Tellius as well. He helped us with the conflict I mentioned earlier,” Lyn says.

“Yeah?” For some reason, unlike when he met Rinkah, the knowledge that he was on the right track didn’t excite or relieve him. If anything, it made him angry. Ike had abandoned them, abandoned _him_ , to avoid conflict and yet everyone he’d made contact with he’d let drag him into their affairs and wars.

"It’s strange,” Lyn says and Ranulf mentally shakes himself out of his thoughts. “Before Ike, I’d never even heard of Tellius, and now I meet you.”

"Did this Ike hang around long?” Ranulf asks.

Lyn shakes her head. “Just the one night. We were actually-“

“Lyn,” Rath says, giving Ranulf a pointed look.

“If it helps any, I know Ike,” Ranulf says. “So…you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“You’re trying to find him?” Lyn asks.

Ranulf pushes his empty bowl aside. “Yeah. He…look, you tell me what he did for you and I’ll tell you why I’m trying to find him.”

“That seems fair,” Rath says.

Lyn raises an eyebrow. “Thank you for permission.”

Rath flushes and turns his attention back to his food but not before Lyn leans over and kisses Rath’s cheek. Ranulf hides his smile by ducking his head. The comfortableness between them is refreshing. After so long alone without _really_ talking to anyone, just being around them is a strange sort of relief. He almost feels like a person again.

"There was this man, a dark sage I guess would be the best way to describe it,” Lyn says. “He managed to figure out how to harness the power of dragons and we had blessed weapons but we still struggled. Ike appeared towards the end of the fight – apparently someone had tipped him off. The last dragon…without his last minute help, while we still would’ve won, we would’ve sustained casualties that honestly I’m not sure we could have lived with.”

"He has a habit of showing up when you need him most,” Ranulf says. “I’ve met several people he’s helped already.”

“He left pretty quickly after the battle,” Lyn says. “He traveled back to the mainland with us but then he was gone. I guess he has a habit of running, huh?”

"Didn’t used to,” Ranulf says. “Where he’s from, he was a hero, really. Always there when you needed him.”

“So why’d he leave?” Rath asks.

"People like him…everyone wants to use them. People try and turn you into a weapon,” Lyn says as she meets Ranulf’s eyes. “That’s why, right?”

“I think that was his intention,” Ranulf says. “But looks like he can’t help himself, not saying he should’ve left you guys hung out to dry, just…”

Ranulf goes silent. He’d never been big on sharing his feelings, not only with strangers but really anyone. Being the King’s right hand, after Giffca anyways, it’d been smarter to hold people at an arm’s length and unlike Giffca who did so with silence, Ranulf had done so by saying everything and yet nothing at the same time. But here, now, at sea and months of travel away from Tellius let alone Gallia, there’s no need to hide what he’s thinking.

“What’s the point in leaving if you keep getting involved in the thing you’re running from, you know?” Ranulf shrugs.

“That’s something you should keep in mind,” Rath says, nudging Lyn’s side.

“Looking for a break?” Ranulf asks, the tension in his shoulders easing as the conversation shifts away from Ike.

“Something like that. We needed a break and we just got married so you know…it’s the right time,” Lyn says. She smiles. “But you never really said why you’re on this boat trying to find Ike. He must mean a lot to you to come this far.”

“When I…” Ranulf stops, then shakes his head, reminding himself that he has no reason to hide his thoughts. “When I started this, I thought the point was to find him and bring him home, but the further I go, the more I’m realizing that’s not really an option any more. Nothing I could say could bring him back when he’s run this far.” He gives his new companions a wry smile. “I’m not usually one to dump this much on people I’ve just met.”

Lyn smiles and it’s so warm and welcoming it makes Ranulf’s chest ache. “It’s alright. Both Rath and I understand what it’s like to be alone for so long.”

“So if you aren’t bringing him back to Tellius, what will you do?” Rath asks. “Given that you’ve traveled all this way.”

“Stay with him. Returning…when I left I accepted there was a chance I’d never return,” Ranulf says. “Being bitter now doesn’t mean I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“Well, then we’ll just have to make sure you find him,” Lyn says. “I’m technically royalty. That should make it easy to get an audience with the princess of Rausten and I’ve heard they have a pretty far flung spy network. That’d be a good place to start.”

Ranulf can’t hide his surprise. “Really?”

“You’ve come a long way and clearly made a lot of sacrifices. From what I saw of Ike, he’s a good man too. Helping you two reunite is the least I could do really,” Lyn says.

For the first time in a long while, Ranulf feels a little bit of hope.

-.-

It’s easy to become close with Lyn, and even Rath, so by the time they land in Rausten, he has an ease with them that he had with Lethe, Mordecai, Kyza, and Lyre. The port they are dropped off in seems to have a population of zero. The crew drops off none of their cargo, and they take on a single passenger. The town itself consists of a small tavern that has a sign advertising lodging and a host of abandoned buildings, and yet oddly, Ranulf can’t pick up on anything remotely malicious or negative in the energy.

Both Rath and Lyn keep their hands on the hilts of their respective blades as they head from the docks to the lone hotel. Rath heads in first. There’s a woman at the bar polishing glasses, long purple hair standing out in a bar full of rough looking men. The crowd doesn’t match the town even a little. Ranulf exchanges a look with Rath and Lyn before shrugging and making a bee line for the bar. It’s just as crowded as the rest of the room, but his odd appearance draws the bartender’s attention, and for one of the first times in his life, it isn’t in a negative way.

“You’re new,” she says, leaning in close to speak to him over the noise.

“What’s the deal with this place? I didn’t expect the crowd,” Ranulf says.

"Let me get my boss,” she says.

She disappears behind a cloth covering a doorway in between the shelves of liquor. When she returns a moment later, she doesn’t spare him a second glance, but she’s followed by a tall man with a similar build to Ike but with a lot more scars, the most prominent one being across the bridge of his nose.

“Well you’re certainly not from around here,” the man says. “I’m Gerik, I own this establishment.”

“Ranulf,” Ranulf says, offering his hand to shake.

Gerik does so and then jerks his thumb towards a door to the right. “Marisa said you had some questions. We can talk in there.”

Ranulf follows him into a spacious supply room, then takes a seat on one of the many barrels of beer. “I’m just a little confused about this place. It’s abandoned, but this place is standing room only.”

“A few months back the area was overrun with the Risen, dark creatures,” Gerik says. “Me and my team cleaned it out but people still aren’t too keen on moving back in yet. They’ll visit though.”

“The liquor that good?” Ranulf asks.

Gerik laughs as he takes his own seat. “No, but we have one hell of a dancer. She goes on in an hour.”

“Not really my thing,” Ranulf says. “My companions and I are looking for some lodging tonight though, if you can offer it. Two rooms?”

“That I can do. It’ll be 75 gold for each room,” Gerik says.

Ranulf raises his eyebrows. “Seems cheap.”

“We make more money off the liquor. There’s not a lot of people interested in staying the night,” Gerik says. “The monsters are more active in the morning so it’s easier to travel back home at night actually. They prefer the cover of fog over darkness.”

“What are they anyway?” Ranulf smiles. “Like you said, I’m not really from around here, and to know what we might be up against.” He decides not to mention how many qualified him as a monster throughout his life.

“Giant spiders, zombies, floating eyes, gorgons, zombie dragons…there’s less of them now since the source of their power is gone,” Gerik says.

“Maybe I should just go back home,” Ranulf says, rubbing a hand down his face.

"They’re not so bad,” Gerik says. “And if you’re worried, Marisa and I are both retired mercenaries. We can get you where you need to go.”

“Well, actually, we’re seeking audience with the princess of Rausten,” Ranulf says.

Gerik’s grin widens. “I can definitely help with that.”

-.-

The fog is thick the next morning, and while Ranulf is sure he’s dealt with harder and tougher enemies, he’s grateful for Marisa’s presence as a guide. From everything they’ve talked about, he knows Rath and Lyn aren’t pushovers either.

“So Gerik said these monsters are because of some dark god you all defeated a little while back,” Lyn says.

“If you want information like that, you’re better off waiting to meet Princess L’Arachel,” Marisa says with a small shake of her head. “I never paid attention to technicalities like that.”

Ranulf is about to comment on that when a stench he’s never smelled before suddenly fills his nose and mouth, taking him by surprise so quickly he ends up gagging and coughing. “What is that?”

His three companions stare at him in confusion. 

“What is it?” Marisa asks.

“It smells like rot and…Gods, I don’t even know how to describe it,” Ranulf says.

“Ah, must be the monsters,” Marisa says. She reaches into her hip bag and pulls out a handkerchief and tosses it to him. “Tie that around your face. It might help with the smell.”

“If he smells it, does that mean they’re close?” Rath asks.

“Probably,” Marisa says. “Keep your weapons close.”

The cloth doesn’t do much to help the smell, and frankly, the stench is so overpowering to him that he couldn’t pinpoint the direction of it if he tried. He can only theorize that the stench has chaotic energy mixed in with it. That would explain the way it overwhelms the senses.

“Wait,” Marisa says, drawing to a halt as they near the tree line that gives way from valley to forest. “There’s webs across the trees.”

“Giant spiders then?” Lyn asks.

“Probably a nest,” Marisa says. “They don’t often cover the trees so thoroughly unless they’re mating.”

“Oh fantastic,” Ranulf says. “Just how big are these things?”

A strange clicking noise interrupts whatever Marisa is going to say, but Ranulf finds his question answered just fine when a spider twice the size of Tibarn skitters out of the trees towards them. Marisa moves before any of them can think to, throwing a knife from her belt as she races towards it. Lyn is the next to react, pulling her bow taut and letting loose an arrow with deadly accuracy, striking the large beast in its hindquarters. Marisa dives under the creature, slashing with her sword as she slides through the mud and spills the creature’s entrails on the ground.

Ranulf grits his teeth against the smell and shifts into his cat form. Oddly, that makes the smell better, furthering his idea that the smell is more psychological than it is physical and thus easier to endure in his true form. The spider shivers and then keels over to the side and onto its back. Marisa wipes her face with her sleeve.

“We’re going to take the mountain pass instead,” she says. “It’s longer but unless you want to be fighting a colony of those it’s safer. It’s going to take a cleansing fire to get rid of them.”

“I don’t like this place,” Rath says.

Marisa shrugs and sheaths her sword.

-.-

It takes four days to get out of the mountains on the other end of the forest. Ranulf spends the whole time in his cat form, the band required to hold the form wrapped around his right paw. He catches Lyn giving him looks of concern every once in a while, but in all honesty, he’s grateful for the excuse not to talk. The darkness entrenched in the land puts him on edge and the only thing that makes him feel any better is tearing apart the gargoyles they come across.

Even in the last wars, he’d never ridden so close to losing himself.

The moment his paws touch the land of Rausten, the anger and anxiety that had been swirling within him lifts and he transforms back into his more normal form moments later. He could kiss the ground.

“You’re cuter as a cat,” Marisa says as he readjusts his cap.

“Yeah well tough,” he says. “Where are we? It feels…different from where we were?”

“This is Rausten,” Marisa says. “The roads are better traveled and we likely won’t find any monsters, just your usual cutthroats and brigands. Princess L’Arachel has done a good job purifying the lands.”

“You can pick up on it, can’t you?” Rath asks as they begin down the dirt road. “The energy, that’s why you stayed as a cat.”

Lyn and Marisa both seem intrigued. A few moments ago, Ranulf would’ve met the question and curious looks with hostility but the anger that had been so close to the surface the last few days is gone.

“Yes,” he says. “Laguz…we can pick up on the energies of the land and those around us. The land back there is foul. It reminds me of-“ He stops, suddenly remembering what it had smelled of. The tower. That goddess forsaken tower with his brothers and sisters twisted beyond recognition, their souls tainted and distorted. To think that such a thing could happen to the land itself…“What happened here? What was this god you defeated?”

“A dragon,” Marisa says with a shrug. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t the person to ask about this. Magic and energies…I have no use for it.”

"Did a man with blue hair help you?” Lyn asks.

Marisa frowns and thinks. “Yes, actually. We’d been on our way into the temple where the dark god slept when he found us, Ike I believe was his name.”

“Of course,” Ranulf says.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more information for you,” Marisa says. “I just saw him then. After, Gerik said he spoke with Princess L’Arachel and left with the main troops back to Renais while we headed north to try clearing the lands of monsters.”

“Wow, he really does have a hard time staying out of trouble,” Lyn says.

Ranulf shakes his head. “I guess that makes it easy to find him. Just find where the trouble is.”

"He sounds like a handful,” Marisa says.

Ranulf sighs. “You have no idea.”

-.-

Princess L’Arachel is…

Ranulf has never met royalty quite like her.

“I have never seen a soul so pure, minus myself of course,” L’Arachel says from where she sits on the desk in her study with Ranulf and Lyn as her captive audience in the two chairs before her. “We certainly would have won without him but the fight was certainly easier with him at our sides. The man took on two zombie Dracos on his own after all and that would have been a challenge even for one as blessed by the light as myself.”

“Right, so where did he go after this?” Lyn asks. Even she was struggling to keep irritation out of her voice.

“Ah, yes, well of course I asked him to stay. With someone like him around, I could ensure the safety of Rausten’s royal treasures unlike ever before,” L’Arachel says. “But he would not be swayed. He ended up traveling with Ephraim and my dear Eirika and after that…I’m not sure.”

"Gerik seemed to imply you had a well-staffed spy network,” Ranulf says. “You haven’t been able to find hint of him anywhere?”

L’Arachel straightens and then stands, her skirts rustling as a more serious look enters her eyes. “You come well informed. Yes, Rausten has a highly efficient spy network throughout the continent and beyond. A moment, please.” She moves passed them towards her study door and opens it, speaking to the guard outside before returning to her desk, this time opting for sitting in the chair instead of perched atop it. “I apologize for not being more forthright, but you must understand, I’m hardly going to give out information on a man as dangerous as he is without getting to know you first.”

"Dangerous?” Lyn asks.

“A man who can fell those creatures without breaking a sweat is a man who could easily jeopardize the newfound stability of our lands,” L’Arachel says. “I had to be sure of your intentions, royalty or not my dear Lyndis.”

The door opens and a man plain in appearance and clothes enters, very much a man who would be impossible to pick out again if asked.

“I was busy,” he says, voice a low drawl.

“Yes, but if I remember correctly you’re still paid out of my pocket,” L’Arachel says with a smile and tone that tells Ranulf this is an old conversation. “Rennac is my spymaster. He’s been verifying your identities.”

“Lyndis is who she says she is and comes with a stellar reputation,” Rennac says, leaning back against the door. “Rath is much the same. You on the other hand…I can’t even find where you came from.”

“How did you get that information so quickly?” Lyn asks, sounding more curious than offended.

Ranulf is just impressed.

“My father and I have been crafting our network for years,” L’Arachel says. “I’m not going to compromise it by telling you how we designed it.”

“Scrying,” Rennac says. “It allows for quick exchange of information even across oceans.”

“Rennac!”

“Lyn is going to need it when she goes home,” Rennac says. “There’s too much doubt yet about your rule and you’re going to need an efficient network to keep yourself protected.”

“You found all that out about me and nothing about him?” Lyn asks.

Ranulf crooks an eyebrow at the man, grinning when Rennac’s nose wrinkles with displeasure.

“I can’t even find record of creatures like you,” Rennac says. “Let alone the land you hail from.”

“Ike and I were companions in our home continent,” Ranulf says. “I’ve been pursuing him since he left.”

“And why did he leave?” L’Arachel asks.

“For the same reason you’ve tried to keep an eye on him,” Ranulf says. “He thought, and rightly so, that his presence led to instability in our lands and given his close ties with royal families while being the strongest mercenary the lands had seen in perhaps centuries he wasn’t wrong. If he’d stayed, war would break out with his friends asking for his aid on all sides. We’d done it once before.”

“So why pursue him? Do you intend to force him back?” L’Arachel asks, head tilting to the side.

“No I…” Ranulf flushes, unable to help his embarrassment. “I just don’t want him to be alone. He thinks he has to be but he doesn’t.”

L’Arachel’s somewhat hardened expression melts and she leans forward, chin in her hands. “You are quite the loyal friend to come so far in pursuit of him.”

“It’s been over a year,” Ranulf says. “It’d be pointless to give up after this long and I’m not stopping until I find him with or without your assistance.”

“I can vouch for Ranulf’s character,” Lyn says. “I’ve been with him for the better part of the year and his intentions have remained the same.”

"We will assist, both as an act of good faith for you, Lyndis, as well as because I would love to reunite you with someone you clearly love so much,” L’Arachel says, her voice taking on the dramatic tone from before. “After all, my role in this world is to bring light to the world in any way I can and this is a most righteous cause! Rennac! Compile all we have on Ike and give it to Ranulf. We will give you some supplies as well.”

“I…thank you,” Ranulf says.

-.-

Parting from Rausten, and Rath and Lyn, is harder than he thought it would be. His journey had become much less lonely with them at his side and as he enters Jehanna on his way to the southernmost port in Grado, the desert sands reminds him of when he’d first left.

Rennac had given him good information. Ike had last been seen in Grado boarding a ship bound for the country of Valm. Their intel in Valm wasn’t as widespread as it was in Lyn’s homeland or across their own continent, but they still had enough agents there to ascertain that Ike had recently come into conflict with a man called the Conqueror. After that, their reports grew scattered and unclear. The Conqueror had taken to rooting out spies and taking over the continent one territory at a time.

Which left Ranulf with a growing anxiety as he traversed across the desert land, wondering if perhaps Ike had finally met his match. From what Rennac could tell him of the Conqueror, he sounded much like what Zelgius could have been if left to his own devices and desires.

“Glaring at food hasn’t often helped my hunger or my emotional state. How is it working out for you?”

Ranulf looks up from his bowl of stew to see a man with long red hair and a green cap pulled low over his face taking a seat across from him in the inn’s dining area.

“I’m not usually one to get lost in thought,” Ranulf says. “Can I help you?”

The man shrugs. “I was just curious about you. I’ve never seen someone with ears and a tail like you, nor have most of the folk around here.”

Ranulf glances around the room before ducking his head again. He has certainly gotten more stares here than he had elsewhere, and while there was nothing malicious in their stares, experience told him that one remark could unite all the hired swords in the room against the odd one out.

“I’m not from the area,” he settles with.

The man laughs. “Thanks for stating the obvious. So what are you?”

Ranulf shoves his bowl away, hunger drying up. “Nothing you’ve ever heard of.”

He goes to stand but the man reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can leave the bench he’s at. “Sorry. I could have phrased that better.”

Ranulf jerks his hand away. “Maybe at least offer your name before you ask questions.”

“Right. I’m Joshua, a mercenary,” he says.

Ranulf sits back down, tail lashing back and forth. “Ranulf. I’m a laguz. I shapeshift.”

“Into something with ears and a tail?” Joshua asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Ranulf repeats, voices dry.

“Alright, I deserved that,” Joshua says with an easy smile. “Where are you headed?”

“Grado,” Ranulf says. “I’m catching a boat for Valm.”

“Well, you’ll find good work there if you’re intending to make money as a mercenary,” Joshua says. “Now that’s a country that values strength over anything else, at least these days. Let’s just hope they keep their gaze on their nearer neighbors.”

“I’m not a mercenary,” Ranulf says. “I’m looking for a friend.”

“Ah, well, you must be dedicated if you’re willing to head into Valm now,” Joshua says. “I’m heading to Grado myself though. Do you mind the company? The roads are safer together.”

His knee jerk reaction is to decline, but even if he and Joshua got off on the wrong foot laguz aren’t meant to be alone for so long. For his own sake, he needs companionship. “Alright. I keep setting out the wrong direction anyways even with the map I have. Sand is sand after all.”

“You’re in luck,” Joshua says. “I grew up here. Navigating the desert is somewhat of a strong suit of mine. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

Ranulf knows that much. Goddess, he hates the desert.

-.-

Joshua grows on him quickly. He’s quick to banter and after a few days, Ranulf loosens up and begins to enjoy their conversations. Joshua has plenty of stories of being a mercenary and in a lot of ways, he reminds Ranulf of Ike even if he’s much more light-hearted. More than anything, it’s the man’s humbleness. They’re set upon by brigands often enough but Joshua makes quick work of them with his sword and usually before Ranulf gets much of a chance to transform. He never brags in his stories though, speaking more of his companion’s abilities than his own.

It makes Ranulf miss Ike all that much more.

“So what about you?” Joshua asks as they begin to set up their two person camp for the night. “You’ve let me talk all about myself but I don’t even know what you did back in your home country.”

“I served my King. I was his second in command, behind his bodyguard at least,” Ranulf says, stretching out on the plain sand and letting the heat of it sink into his bones as Joshua starts a small fire. “I was meant to be his son’s general one day.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to turn down,” Joshua says. “I guess this friend means a lot?”

“More than anything,” Ranulf says, gaze up at the stars. “He…made me question things I had held to be true for years, and made me want to be a better person than I was. I loved my country but my country, my King…they never inspired me the way he did.”

Joshua gives a low whistle. “Sounds less like friendship and more like romance if you ask me.”

Ranulf snorts. “Alright.”

But the words stick with him the rest of the night.

-.-

The soft sands eventually give way to the compact dirt of a savannah, which over the next week then shapes into stretches of woodland. Like when he first stepped into Rausten, Ranulf can tell when they’ve crossed the line from Jehanna and into Grado as the feeling of unease and anger from when he’d first arrived surges through him all at once and he stumbles, nearly falling to his knees.

Joshua braces him with a hand on his chest, helping him back up and holding a steadying hand on him. “Are you okay?”

“Grado. We’re in Grado now aren’t we?” Ranulf says. “L’Arachel said the land had been tainted but Goddess this…”

“You can pick up on the energy?” Joshua asks.

“You beorc are lucky you can’t,” he says. He shrugs himself out of Joshua’s grip and digs in his pack for his band that will let him stay transformed. “I need to transform, at least for now. It’s not as bad as it was on the coast of Rausten but I’m too vulnerable to the tainted energy this way. My apologies.”

“No, by all means,” Joshua says.

He looks troubled, but Ranulf can’t be bothered to reassure him.

-.-

Four days later, they reach a bustling city about a day’s ride from the port. This close to the sea, it’s easier to stay in his more human form than when they had been closer to the capital city. He wishes he’d stayed in cat form to hide his surprised expression when a boy comes tumbling out of a nearby house and races towards them.

“King Joshua!”

Joshua catches the boy just before he bowls into him, hauling him upright to settle on his hip as he hugs him. “Hello, Landon. Why am I not surprised you’re the first one here?”

“I’m always first! Miss Natasha told me you were coming and I’ve been watching from the window all day while everyone else is at school,” the boy says. He squirms and Joshua sets him back down. “I need to run and tell the others. Stay right there!”

The boy dashes away again, this time heading off down the street.

“What’s this about being a King?” Ranulf asks.

Joshua rubs the back of his neck, wincing. “Yeah, I maybe forgot to mention that? I’m the King of Jehanna.”

“…oh.” Ranulf squints at him. “So that bit about being a mercenary-“

"Oh I am, or I was,” Joshua says. “Back when I was a prince, I ran away from home and made a living as a mercenary for years. After my mother died, I took the throne like I was meant to, but I still go undercover on occasion, especially when visiting my wife. She owns an orphanage in this city.”

“Right,” Ranulf says, still feeling more than a little off kilter. “So you’re a King who pretends to be a mercenary who married a woman who owns an orphanage in another country…you and Ike certainly would’ve gotten along.”

“We did,” Joshua says. “For the few hours I spent with him anyways.”

Before Ranulf can badger him with more questions, a woman in a white gown with her delicate face framed by golden ringlets exits the building the boy had emerged from. Joshua steps over to her, embracing her in a tight hug that lingers longer than Ranulf feels comfortable being present for. Just as he’s about to slip away, Joshua releases her and turns towards him.

“Natasha, this is Ranulf,” Joshua says. “He’s heading for Bethroen to take a ship for Valm. He knows Ike.”

“Ah, you must’ve come a long way,” Natasha says. “Can you stay for a day or so? You should rest up before heading out to sea.”

"That’s very kind of you,” Ranulf says. “But frankly your country makes my skin crawl and I’d like to leave as soon as I can.”

“Laguz can pick up on the energies of the land,” Joshua says. “I guess he can confirm your suspicions about what Lyon’s work did to the country.”

Natasha’s face falls. “I’d hoped to confirm elsewise. Do you think you could ever return one day and perhaps help us figure out how to cleanse the land? Someone with your abilities would be more than helpful in our recovery.”

“I can’t commit but if I come back, I’ll seek you out,” Ranulf says. He turns to Joshua. “Thank you for the help and the company.”

“Good luck on finding Ike,” Joshua says. “And stay safe over in Valm.”

“The reports get worse all the time,” Natasha says. “Even Grado is starting to get refugees.”

The words do nothing to help with Ranulf’s growing sense of urgency. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to write, if I find him.”

-.-

The trip to Valm isn’t long, and this time he finds himself on a ship full of mercenaries ready to make a new life in a country where success was found by honor on the battlefield. He keeps to himself as much as he can. These men seem as likely to hurt him as help him. It shouldn’t be surprising that they opt for the former.

He hasn’t felt right since he stepped foot in Grado and being at sea helped but it was like something in the land had gotten into him, dulling his senses and distracting him. They catch him asleep, hooding him and breaking his arm to distract him before he can think to fight back. From there, he loses track of anything other than the pain his arm, chained in front of him as they heal with a magic collar secure around his neck. They’re kind enough to reset the arm but it doesn’t matter when every time he moves too quickly, a flash of magic sends him reeling with pain.

It’s only through eavesdropping he discovers their plan. Someone had seen him shift in Grado. If they could force him into the shape of a monster, they could sell him to the Conqueror for more money than they could make by selling their swords. Ranulf curses himself in his head as the ship continues on its course. He could blame Grado’s cursed energy all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he’d begun to trust beorc too much. They would always see someone different and think of how to profit.

They keep him on the edge of starvation and for the most part leave him alone in a cell in the ship’s belly. He wants to fight. Or, at least he thinks he does. There’s something in him that rebukes the collar, something deeply instinctive that knows what this means. But he can’t fight. He’d given up everything to try and find Ike and this…this was where it got him. He deserved nothing less for abandoning his King, his country.

All for a beorc.

-.-

The mage in control of the collar, Hespah, forces him through pain alone into his cat form. From there, it’s into a cage and then loaded onto a caravan heading for the capital city. Ranulf sleeps. He’d resisted losing his human shape at first, knowing somehow it was the last hold he had on his life. Laguz were not the mindless beasts beorc made them out to be, but forced transformation whatever the methods…Ranulf knew where that fate ended. He resigned himself to it, and hoped he was slain before he killed too many in battle.

-.-

“The Resistance is growing,” a guard says.

Ranulf’s ears twitch as meat is heaped into his bowl and slid under the cage bars. He digs in, desperate, but keeps his ears trained on the guards standing outside his cage gossiping as if he can’t understand them. Then again, only Walhart, his new master, seemed to understand there was more to him.

“Of course it is,” the other says. “They’re saying that man is with them, the one who freed Say’ri when he came here.”

“You think they’ll make it here?”

“Shut up! You don’t want anyone to hear you talking like that.”

They start to work and Ranulf turns back to his food, his thoughts starting to come together for the first time in months. He’d been looking for a man, someone who had come here and had a conflict with Walhart, but where had he heard that? He growls around his last mouthful of food and begins to pace, the chain on his collar rattling as it drags across the stone ground and tail lashing back and forth.

And who was the man?

If only he could-

Pain rocks through him, shattering down his spine from the collar as he collapses onto the ground. Celia laughs from where she stands outside his cage.

"None of that,” she says. “I can see those thoughts turning. Walhart was right about you.”

He snarls and lunges up, the chain pulling tight and keeping him from the edge of the cage. Anger floods through him. He does not belong in a cage! He’s a warrior! He’s fought and won against bigger foes then this.

Metal groans from somewhere behind him, letting him inch forward towards the cage bars. Fear enters Celia’s eyes and she backs away. Energy crackles through the collar again but the pain spurs him on this time, burning his anger hotter and the chain snaps away from the wall. He hits the cage hard, paws sliding through the gaps as he swipes at her. He just needs one small hit, something to hook her and pull her in, rip her throat from her neck and taste the blood spilling-

Pain rocks him even harder and his vision goes dark.

-.-

The palace is noisy. The scent of blood is thick in the air, even down here in the dark cellars Ranulf has learned to call home. The shouting grows louder until it spills into the room. Blood lust rises up hot and warm in his chest and he pulls at the chain, pacing across the cage as he resists the urge to try and break free. He knows better now.

The door to the room clangs open and Celia swirls in, two guards at her side.

“Open the cage,” Celia says.

Ranulf bares his teeth but slinks back as the door opens, eyes trained on Celia as the guard undoes the lock holding him to the wall and then grabs ahold of the chain. He passes it off to Celia as quick as he can. Celia yanks hard on it and guides him towards the stairs, walking at a brisk pace he hadn’t realized she’d been capable of. She doesn’t seem like someone who’d rush for anyone.

“Walhart needs you,” she says. “You’ll kill the intruders. You harm a single one of our men and you know what happens.”

Ranulf growls low in his throat, tail lashing as they hurry down another hall.

“I’m going to assume that means you understood me,” she says. A guard opens the door to what appears to be the main hall and for the second time, Ranulf lays his eyes on the man who was truly his master. “Go.”

She releases the chain and he freezes. True freedom, or well, something close to it. He could run towards the fighting and then away if he wanted to. The chaos of the battle that bangs on the great oak doors at the other end of the hall would disguise his retreat and she wouldn’t notice until too late.

He walks towards Walhart, placing himself between him and the rest of the hall. Better to go out fighting rather than go mad trapped in this form. His hold on his true self was tenuous at best. 

Ranulf nearly stumbles when a wave of energy, dark and familiar rocks him and when he turns to look, he can see that Walhart has hefted his large sword-like axe. There’s something in his eyes that reminds him of someone, someone he once fought. He’s beyond human, the energy within him feral, like Ranulf. The title Conqueror seems fitting now. But who…who-

The doors creak. Another loud thud and they crumple inward, Resistance forces streaming through the opening and clashing with Walhart’s men but unlike other kings, Walhart doesn’t stay where he is. He charges across the marble floor astride his mount and straight for the thick of the battle and Ranulf, spurned on and encouraged by the energy within him follows. From there, it’s a blur of fear and adrenaline and blood.

Through it all, Ranulf watches Walhart. He’s a flash of bright red among the dark colors of his own forces and the deep blue of the Resistance. A sword sinks into his shoulder and he howls, teeth sinking into the assailant’s arm and removing it clean from its body before he leaps away to avoid an axe. In his mind’s eye, he sees a shaggy red mane, that of a lion. A king, _his King_ , leading them into battle and pulling them all with him.

Ranulf stumbles, vision swimming as the chaotic energy of the battle swamps him. No, Walhart is not like his King. Where Walhart was darkness and bloodlust, his King, Caineghis had been inspiring and calming all at once. Here…no matter how many Walhart fells, the tide pushes against them. Before long, Ranulf finds himself backed into a corner of the side halls, blood, too much of it, pooling onto the floor beneath him. He slips in it. Regains his balance enough to avoid the jab of a spear. The foot soldier’s fear stink fades and a look of smug satisfaction fills his eyes, as if he can already envision parading around with Ranulf’s pelt.

All the searching, all the fighting, the pain…only to end up as a trophy.

“Hold!” The voice is frantic but loud and clear even in all the chaos.

The foot soldier freezes but before Ranulf can take advantage of the momentary lapse, he’s shoved aside and instead he’s faced with a man that even his addled brain can recognize.

Ike.

Thinner than before, the way everyone gets on a harsh war campaign, but unmistakably _him_. The one he’s endured _everything_ for.

"To me!”

Walhart’s command grabs both their attention. Ranulf snarls, too many thoughts in his brain warring with each other. The collar around his neck lights up, demanding his obedience but even as he tries to move he wavers, blood loss and exhaustion and surprise swamping his system. The last thing he sees is Ike sprinting towards him.

-.-

Ranulf wakes to the smell of smoke and the sound of a crackling fire. He tenses but keeps his eyes closed and breathing deep, using his ears and nose to get as much of a gauge on his situation as he could. He can feel grass beneath his paws and smell the forest. There’s the smell of burnt flesh, but it’s a rabbit not the scent he’d expect after what he could last remember.

He lets one eye slide open. There’s a fire in front of him and beyond that was Ike pulling the last bit of rabbit off the bone and popping it in his mouth. The feeling is so familiar. He’s not entirely convinced this isn’t all a dream.

A figure bleeds out of the shadows behind Ike and Ranulf is up and across the fire tackling the threat, running on instinct.

“Ranulf! Stand down!”

Ranulf snarls at the figure below him, a person shockingly similar to Ike in looks but smaller, wiry but well-muscled. The man stares back at him and doesn’t struggle. Ranulf can hear his heartbeat pounding but he doesn’t lash out in fear and that has to stand for something. He steps off of him and sits.

“I see Lissa healed him well,” the man says.

“Yes, thank you,” Ike says, helping the man to his feet. “Ranulf, this is Chrom. I joined forces with him to help the Resistance.”

The words infuriate him. Ike left him, _them_ , to avoid this sort of trouble and yet when he finds him, he’s in the thick of things just like he swore he didn’t want to be. This wasn’t helping people as he traveled. This was a war campaign. His tail lashes back and forth, the anger bubbling up with nowhere to go. He turns away and heads back towards the fire, ignoring the hunger pains in his stomach in favor of curling up with his back to them, unable and unwilling to think too hard about what he’s feeling.

“And you’re sure you…know him,” Chrom says.

"Positive,” Ike says. “I don’t know what happened to him. He’s not…he hasn’t gone feral. But he’s not himself either.”

“Why hasn’t he changed back?” Chrom asks. “That collar is gone, you said he’d…”

Silence fills the air and Ranulf can practically feel their gazes on him. He…isn’t sure he can change back. Not now, not when his mind can’t stay focused. His thoughts oscillate between coherent and pure instinct.

“There’s people back home that could help,” Ike says. “I know I said I’d help you with what comes next but this is more important. I can’t go with you.”

“I understand,” Chrom says. “These people, what could they do for him?”

“Laguz are sensitive to energy,” Ike says and Ranulf can hear the clinking of his armor as he repositions himself. “They need to maintain balance internally, otherwise they can get swept away by bloodlust or go mad. Cat laguz like him aren’t supposed to be so sensitive. Something…” His voice goes tight and silence stretches for another moment longer as though Ike can’t find the words. “Anyways, the herons. There’s a galdr they can sing that would help him but that’s not truly an option.”

“If he were on holy land, would it help?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps. Why?”

“We’re heading for the Divine Dragon Grounds to restore Tiki’s power,” Chrom says. “We’ll be meeting up with her on the coast before heading further east. Perhaps there’s something she can do to aid your companion and some time in those lands will see his mind restored.”

“It’s worth a shot. I’ll see if he’s willing to try.”

“Do you have a choice?” Chrom asks.

“It has to come from him. I would never force something like this on someone,” Ike says. “If he’s truly lost…he’s better off dead.”

Ranulf stretches his paws out. It seems Ike might still have a good head on his shoulders. Ranulf will trust his judgment. He’s got nothing better to do.

-.-

Ranulf follows the war party from a distance. It feels good to have true earth beneath his paws again, and while the death and despair soaked into the war-torn land is present, it’s not deep like the corruption in Grado. He sleeps beside Ike’s tent at night but otherwise avoids him. He can smell the stink of guilt and sadness on him, and he knows that should bother him but it doesn’t. All he wants is to go home but that’s not an option.

So he follows.

They reach the coast a few weeks later and Ranulf trails after Ike and Chrom as they head for a large ship docked at the far end of the shipyard. He boards with them and follows deep into the ship’s bowels, ignoring the way it makes his hackles rise and ugly memories rear up in the back of his mind. Chrom opens a door and steps aside, giving Ranulf a pointed look. Ranulf peels his upper lip back in an imitation of a snarl but slinks in anyways with Ike just behind him.

Inside is furnished with a bed, a bolted down desk, chair and trunk. What’s more interesting is the green-haired woman sitting atop the desk, one leg folded over the other. There’s something about her that is familiar and strange all at once, and when he meets her green eyes, his fur stands up on end, like he’s been charged with electricity. She smiles and stands, approaching him. Instead of backing away, his paws force him forward, instinct over-riding thought.

"Ah, Chrom was right. My poor dear,” she says, but her mouth doesn’t move. “You’ve come so far and endured so much. Let me bring you some peace.”

She kneels before him and before he can move, her delicate looking arms wrap around his shoulders and she buries her face against his neck. His world spins, the dark and animalistic feelings that had clouded his judgment and thoughts like a thick fog melting away with a gentle push. When the room stops spinning and rights itself again, he’s clutching at the woman’s dress with human fingers and panting out harsh breaths against her shoulder.

“There,” she says, this time her words soft against his ear. “That’s better, isn’t it? Ike, please bring a blanket from the trunk. He needs to be warm.”

“Of course.”

Ranulf barely registers the feeling of soft cloth sliding around his shoulders, instead just listing into the woman’s weight and letting her manipulate his arms under the blanket which she wraps tight around him. When she pulls away, he tries to reach for her but she stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Just a moment,” she says. “I’m not leaving.”

She gets to her feet and then helps him up, guiding him to the bed and then under the covers before sitting beside his head and placing a hand in his hair. He falls asleep to her fingers sliding along his ear.

-.-

When Ranulf wakes, he feels better than he has in far too long, at least until he notices Ike entering the room.

"Good, you’re awake. We should go over where you’ve been,” Ike says as he sits at the desk. “If you’re not too tired.”

“It’s a short answer,” Ranulf says. It’s too hard to look at Ike, so he stares at the ceiling instead. “Everywhere you’ve been. Hoshido. Rausten. Too many oceans.”

“Ranulf…why would you…”

Ranulf closes his eyes. “I should sleep.”

Ike sighs. “I’m sorry.”

He leaves and Ranulf lets the exhaustion take him once more.

-.-

It takes a while, but at some point in their voyage across the ocean it hits him that Ike isn’t going anywhere. Ranulf doesn’t leave his room often. In a lot of ways, he supposes he’s not used to the open air. From what he’s gathered, he was in Walhart’s care for several months. Apparently, that was all the time needed to break him of his instincts and that knowledge made him feel more alone and lost than he ever had before.

When he does leave his room, Ike stays nearby. He doesn’t crowd Ranulf or engage him in conversation, but he always stays in his line of sight. It’s very Gallian. It’s the one bit of familiarity he has.

But even that familiarity doesn’t outweigh the pure peace Tiki’s presence. She reminds him of Reyson during the Mad King’s War, the way he’d let Ranulf rest his head in his lap while in his cat form and stroke his fur after long battles. He did that with all the Laguz. He was an aloof man, the way only someone who’d lost their whole family could be, and yet he had extended endless comfort to his Laguz comrades in the quiet moments after a fight.

“You are still mad at him,” Tiki says one evening as she joins him in his quarters. She smooths out her red nightgown and sits on the bed.

Ranulf climbs up next to her and rests his head in her lap, eyes sliding shut. “I can’t help it.”

“But you came all this way, just for him,” Tiki says. “So why are you mad?”

In this way, she’s nothing like Reyson. The nuances of emotion alludes her whereas Reyson felt so much people questioned if he was truly even a Heron.

“He left because he said he didn’t want to fight anymore,” Ranulf says. “But everywhere he’s been, he’s fought and done exactly what he said he was running from. Which means he…he abandoned us for no reason.”

“Us? Or you?” Tiki asks.

Ranulf opens his mouth to answer, then stops and frowns. “I…”

For so long, he’d seen Ike’s behavior as a betrayal of all of them – his sister, his Queen, his friends. But the anger he felt, the _betrayal_ …it ran deeper. He knew it did, he knew _why_ it did, he knew that Ike’s actions proved what he’d always known. He’d known it when he first heard of Ike’s departure.

The bond he feels is one-sided. He’d give everything up for Ike, in fact, he already has. But Ike would never do the same.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” Tiki says, petting his ears as he soaks her gown with quiet tears. “I’m here.”

“But he’s not,” Ranulf chokes out, knees curling up towards his chest.

“He wants to be,” Tiki says. “But you’re in too much pain still to let him in. That’s what I see.”

“If he wants to be, then why did he leave in the first place?” Ranulf asks, the tears on his face making him feel angrier.

Tiki presses a cool hand to his forehead. “Sometimes we must leave the ones we love most to try and protect them.”

The words halt his breath for just a moment, the truth of them ringing through him. For months now he’d been trapped in a fog of despair that he’d given up everything for no reason, that everything he’d done had been for nothing. But…perhaps not. He’d not considered that perhaps despite his choices, Ike had truly wanted to protect him.

“Would you like me to get him?” Tiki asks.

Ranulf nods because he desperately wants to see Ike again now that his head feels clearer.

"Do you want me to be here too?” she asks.

“No, I think it’s about time we talk things out on our own,” Ranulf says as he sits up. “But thank you. I don’t think I’d be doing as well as I am without you.”

Tiki smiles and kisses his forehead before hopping out of bed and leaving the room. Ranulf wipes his eyes and cheeks. Not that it matters. Ike has always been able to tell how he feels even when his own King and Prince couldn’t. He’ll see right through him. Not that Ranulf has ever truly wanted to hide.

There’s a knock on the door and the next moment, Ike steps through and closes it behind him with a soft click. He’s dressed down in a pair of loose breeches and a dark blue undershirt and his expression reminds him of the way he’d walk into a war room full of reluctant allies.

“Hey,” Ike says.

“You…you left me,” Ranulf says, keeping his voice as steady as he can.

"I left everyone,” Ike says.

“You left _me_ , Ike, after everything we’ve been through, you left me without a single word,” Ranulf says. “Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you?”

Ike’s expression twists into something like anguish and pain. “Ranulf, I thought…your King, your Prince, your loyalty is to them. They’re your whole life.”

Ranulf stands, swallowing hard as he meets Ike’s eyes. “You’re a fool if you think I’d follow anyone but you into a tower to kill a goddess. I’ve been loyal to you over my country for far longer than I care to admit, and I believe I’ve made that quite clear now.”

“But _why_? Why would you give up so much?” Ike asks. “I’m just me. I’m a good fighter, sure, but-“

“I don’t care about how well you fight or how well you lead and unite people together. I’m not here to drag you back to Tellius because you were right to leave,” Ranulf says, stepping closer to him. “But I wasn’t going to let you think you have to spend the rest of your life alone. I…I love you too much to let you think that.”

Ike’s eyes widen. It’d be comical if Ranulf hadn’t just had the same realization only moments ago. “You…”

Ranulf lets out a laugh that’s borderline hysterical. “I’m in love with you. And even if you don’t love me back, I’m staying right here because you’re too good of a person to spend the rest of your life by yourself.”

He doesn’t know what sort of reaction he’s expecting, but he’s relieved when Ike sweeps him up in a tight hug. He doesn’t hesitate to return it. The scent of him as Ranulf buries his face in Ike’s neck is like coming home. It’s familiar, but this time it doesn’t make him bitter or sad. 

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” Ike whispers, the words pressed into the top of his head. “But I couldn’t stomach making you choose between your country and me.”

“It’s not a choice,” Ranulf pulls back, reaching up to cup Ike’s face with one hand and pushing his hair out of his eyes with the other. “No one has ever seen me or known me as you have. You’re the only option I’ve ever had.”

He’s not expecting Ike’s eyes to well up with tears. He supposes it makes sense though when they’ve both been so alone for far too long now.

Ranulf shifts closer and presses a gentle kiss to Ike’s lips. Ike shakes in his arms, or maybe he shakes in Ike’s but it doesn’t really matter because they’re together. He doesn’t need anything else.

-.-

Ike moves his few belongings to Ranulf’s room and they cram on the bed together, Ike’s bigger limbs having no choice but to hold Ranulf close. Not that Ranulf is remotely bothered.

The next morning, Ranulf lets Ike take him around to meet the people he’d been fighting alongside the last few months. Sitting around a war table with a rag-tag group of mercenaries, royalty, and shapeshifters feels familiar, and now that the fear of rejection has been lifted, it’s easier to sit and listen.

“Well this is all just a bit of a mess isn’t it?” Ranulf asks. “You pissed off a god that’s also a dragon.”

“A bit of an understatement, but yes,” Lucina says from beside her father. “We have to complete the Fire Emblem by getting our hands on the final gemstone so we can stop them from summoning Grima in the first place.”

“This all sounds a bit too familiar,” Ranulf says, glancing at Ike.

“We don’t have to stay,” Ike says, voice soft and gaze determined.

Ranulf wants to tell him no. He wants to tell Ike to leave them to their own problems. But looking around the table, the words stall in his throat. He’s always loved Ike for his capacity to care, to understand, to lend his strength to those who need it. The people at this table are tired but determined. Likely, they’ll succeed, but not without great cost. And he knows that he and Ike are worth a battalion each on their own and he may be exhausted but he knows only one person that matches his tactical ability and he’s still in Tellius.

“We’ll stay,” Ranulf says. “Get me in touch with your tactician. Let’s see what we can do.”

-.-

“You still stink of corruption.”

Ranulf turns away from the railing of the ship to see a woman with thick brown hair twined around long rabbit ears and patches of dark brown fur on her wrists and shoulders watching him from her perch on a barrel. If he remembers right, her name is Panne.

“I imagine I will for a while,” Ranulf says, leaning back against the railing. “People of my tribe never recovered, or did only to die hours later. I’m lucky only a few months passed. So what do you turn into?”

She raises an eyebrow. “A rabbit.”

The frank tone startles a laugh out of him. “Ah, of course. I turn into a cat myself.”

His response earns him a smile, though tentative. “Despite your stench, I’m glad for your company. Humans find me…intimidating.”

For a moment, her disgruntled expression reminds him so much of Lethe, his heart aches. Before he can say a word, an alarm goes up from the crow’s nest. Panne leaps off the barrel and a moment later he smells the foul corruption mixed with rotting flesh on the ocean air. There’s a flash and when he looks back, where Panne stood now stands a towering brown rabbit with long claws and gleaming red eyes.

“Rabbit,” he says.

Panne lets out a chattering sound that must be a laugh and heads for the rear of the ship.

“Ranulf, can you fight?” Frederick, Chrom’s general, calls from the stairs above.

"Sure,” he says.

“Join up with Panne and Sully at the rear. We have Risen on wyverns incoming,” Frederick says before continuing up the stairs.

Risen - the undead on equally undead wyverns that took more effort to bring down according to Robin and Lucina’s rundown from a few hours earlier. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, lets the shift over take him and ignores the traces of his own corruption that pumps through his veins. By the time he reaches Panne and Sully, the first wave has arrived.

With a roar, he throws himself at the wyvern swooping down towards Sully’s exposed back. His claws sink into the rotting flesh with ease. He claws and gnaws his way through the neck as the wyvern screeches before bracing his paws on its chest and springing away, taking the head with him. With a splash, the hulking form crashes into the sea. Seconds after he lands, Panne leaps over him, taking an axe wielding Risen to the ground.

"Hey! You get the wyverns, I’ll take the riders!” Sully shouts.

She hefts her spear up and sends it sailing, knocking a rider loose. Ranulf springs back up, securing his jaws and claws into the paper-thin flesh and dispatching it like before. From there, the three of them sink into an easy rhythm, Panne guarding their backs as needed. It feels right in a way the fighting in Valm didn’t. By the time the all clear shout goes up, he still feels fine.

He melts back into his human form as Panne does the same. They exchange knowing grins.

“Just a cat?” she asks.

“Just a cat my arse,” Sully says. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Ranulf smiles. “Me too.”

-.-

The remaining days at sea pass quickly as Ranulf takes in as much as he can about Chrom’s army and their opponents, working with Robin and Lucina to build up two teams when they reach land. One will head for the Divine Dragon Grounds with Tiki while the main force heads to Pelgia for the final stone.

Early evenings find him with Tiki. Panne joins as well, curling against him as they soak in Tiki’s peaceful and calming energy. There’s something about being around them both that makes him feel like he’s back in Gallia, if only for a brief moment.

And in the later evenings, after dinner, he finds himself sprawled on top of Ike and wrapped in his arms as they try to catch each other up on the last two years of travel. As Ike talks, Ranulf presses his face into his neck and drowns in his scent and the low rumble of his voice as he details the effort it took to escape L’Arachel’s clutches.

“She was certainly an interesting woman, especially for a queen,” Ranulf says, voice slow with sleep. “She told me she thought you were a danger to her continent. Undoubtedly she wanted to know as much as possible before kicking you out.”

“I wonder if Chrom will do the same,” Ike says. “I was hoping to settle in Valm though. There are some pretty lands to south that remind me of Gallia.” He flushes hard enough that it goes down to his neck. “I wanted to be reminded.”

Ranulf can’t help but smile, his chest filling with a warm and sentimental feeling. “You really are in love, huh?”

“Yes.” The word comes out strained and Ranulf frowns, pushing himself up so he can look at him. “Ranulf, I still can’t believe what you gave up, what you _went through_ , for me. I’ve been so alone and I never wanted anyone else to experience that. Especially not you.”

“I’m responsible for my own actions, not you,” Ranulf says. “I know I was upset, and I definitely blamed you at some points, but I know you made the right choice. And I did too.”

He doesn’t expect his words to make Ike cry, but tears well up and escape his eyes anyways. Ranulf sits back and tugs Ike up. It’s easier to hold him that way, arms tight around his shoulders and neck. He had been so caught up in his own ordeals, he hadn’t considered that Ike had been like him. Alone. But where Ranulf had the hope of one day seeing a familiar face, Ike only had the cold certainty that he’d never see his loved ones again.

He folds himself around as he cries, shoulders trembling. His heart aches at the display because he wishes so desperately that he could give them the peace they want back home. But he can’t.

“I can barely believe you’re real,” Ike confesses, voice raw and unsteady. “Even if this is a dream though, I want to keep sleeping. I’m tired of being alone.”

“You’re not. I promise.” Unable to stop his own frantic energy, Ranulf cups Ike’s face in both hands, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. “I’m right here. And I’m never leaving your side.”

The words come out as a near growl, fierce and protective, and Ranulf means them with every fiber of his being. He’d follow Ike anywhere. He already has.

The only warning he has of Ike’s next move is a wildness in his eyes before he finds himself pressed into the mattress as Ike kisses him breathless. Ranulf meets the fervor with ease. The feelings between them are hardly new or fragile, instead a natural culmination of their lives alongside each other. If anything, he’s been restraining himself.

When Ike twists a hand in his hair, Ranulf lets him, lets him pull his hair back and expose his throat. Every instinct screams in protest but all he does is cling harder to Ike as he presses kisses to his throat. He shivers and squirms at the sensation. Pleasure chases the instinct to fight and vice versa, an endless feedback loop that has him hard and panting embarrassingly quick.

Nothing he’d ever experienced came close. He’s never had anything like the pure connection he has with Ike, the desire to consume and be consumed, the urge to submit, to let someone see every part of him. It all feeds together, leaving him gasping as he rolls his hips along with Ike’s. Eventually, Ike’s lips find his once more as they press as close as they can, but the physical pleasure barely even registers.

Ike bites at his bottom lip, hard enough to make blood blossom between them, staining the taste of the kiss and making Ranulf arch up into him as it joins the myriad of sensations cascading through him. It isn’t until Ike pulls away that his mind clears. Ike presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood that he frowns at as he sits up.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Ranulf licks his injured lip and props himself up on his elbows. “I’m the last person you should hide your wants and desires from. I return them.”

Ike’s expression pinches up with further frustration. “I just…it’s not just sexual to me. I don’t want you thinking that’s all this is, or that I’m trying to solve my loneliness with it.”

Ranulf reaches up, curling a hand around the back of Ike’s neck and tugging him back down. “It didn’t feel just sexual to me. Did it for you?”

“No,” Ike says, voice barely a whisper.

“Then kiss me again. Take whatever you want,” Ranulf says.

So Ike does. He kisses Ranulf until he’s gasping again, shaking and shuddering his gasp as they rut against each other. Distantly, Ranulf can’t help but laugh at himself. In so many ways, he supposed he’d imagined this going more like it did in the romance novels Lethe pretended she didn’t read, but this…this is so much better. Familiarity, clumsiness, a little bit awkward, but full of care.

"I love you,” Ike says, his voice breaking on a soft moan as his fingers dig into Ranulf’s hips and he pushes his cock against Ranulf’s through their clothes. “Damn, Ranulf…”

Ranulf holds Ike’s face between his hands, pressing their foreheads together and staring him in the eye, his own heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. “I love you too, Ike.”

The whimper that escapes Ike’s lips is unlike anything Ranulf’s heard. There’s vulnerability in his eyes, the sort of weakness and desperate request for safety that Ranulf knows he’s the only one Ike’s ever been able to ask for. He kisses Ike’s lips in answer, arms wrapping around his shoulders tight. He wants nothing more than to be the one to give Ike the safety and security he’s spent so long being denied by those around him for their own gain, and it shakes him deep down to realize he can be that for Ike.

“I…” The words don’t finish coming out of Ike’s mouth, his eyes shutting tight as he comes.

Ranulf kisses him through it, holding him close. His own physical pleasure seems like background noise to the immense joy he feels at being able to give Ike a bit of respite and affirmation. Ike slides a shaky hand between them as Ranulf continues to kiss him, squeezing at his length the best he can until Ranulf comes too. Ranulf appreciates the thought but it’s not what’s most important to him. He just wants Ike in his arms as long as he can have him.

-.-

Touching soil in Regna Ferox brings Ranulf a great degree of stability. He hates the sea, especially with a whole new host of bad memories to associate with it, and having solid ground beneath his feet helps him feel more secure in more ways than one. Their groups split as planned, and they make their way through the mountains of Regna Ferox and then down into Ylisse.

“The forests are a welcome sight, are they not?” Panne asks as she and Ranulf scout ahead. “I overheard you speaking with Chrom about how dense the forests of Gallia were.”

“Yes, it is nice to see a large forest, but it’s not the same,” Ranulf says. “Gallia’s forests are hot and humid, and the trees are so tightly packed together it traps the heat in so if you aren’t mindful, you can get overheated. It’s helped keep those who would harm us at bay. Daein tried more than a few times but relied on heavily armored units and wyvern knights for the bulk of their force. It slowed them down too much.”

“Were your people often persecuted?”

Ranulf’s nose wrinkles up. “Yeah, I guess that’s a polite way of putting it. We used to be enslaved by the Begnion Empire, and there’s still an underground slave trade there that hasn’t been entirely rooted out. And the Herons…” He shakes his head. “They’re like us too, but change into Herons instead, and they’re so sensitive to chaotic energy that causing someone physical harm ends up hurting them more than the person they tried to hurt. They were massacred. Only two of the princes and a princess survived.”

“Ah. I see humans are prone to their genocidal tendencies no matter what continent they are on,” Panne says, voice filled with derision. “Not surprising.”

"Is that what happened to the Taguel?”

Panne nods. “Yes. In some ways, you and I are quite alike. We are both the only one of our kind on this continent, though our circumstances are quite different.”

Ranulf frowns. “Does it make you angry that I gave up something that was taken from you?”

“Of course not,” Panne says. “Giving up family and your people is not something anyone would do lightly, and you’re an intelligent person so I know you weighed your options well before making your decision. That doesn’t make loneliness easier to bear, or the feeling that you’re misreading everything around you because you’re surrounded by people you can’t understand fully.” Her nose twitches and her brow furrows. “How is it that you make me talk so much.”

Ranulf nudges her side with his elbow. “Familiarity. You’re right, our circumstances are different, but we probably understand each other better than anyone else can.”

“Even the man you chased across several continents for?” Panne asks, crooking an eyebrow up.

“Yeah, I love Ike and he’s never been anything but a steadfast ally of me and my people, but that’s not the same as…experiencing,” Ranulf says.

"If our circumstances were the same, I can’t imagine there being someone I would love enough to give up everything I knew for,” Panne says.

"Would you believe that I didn’t even know I was in love with him until several months into looking for him?” Ranulf says with a laugh.

"No, men are foolish and out of touch with their emotions no matter where they’re from,” Panne says.

That just makes Ranulf laugh harder.

-.-

“So what will you do after this?”

Ranulf glances over at Sully as she sits down next to him and bites into a bit of jerky. They managed to protect Tiki as she prayed and regained the power necessary to defeat Grima, and now she rests near the fire with their forces spread out in a protective circle as they take their rest for the night. No one gets out of their armor, and their weapons lay close.

“After what?” Ranulf asks.

“I mean, you chased this guy halfway around the world, and now you’re back together again, so what next? You get a home in the countryside and raise a big happy family and never fight again? Ike doesn’t seem like the type to avoid conflict,” she says.

Ranulf makes a thoughtful noise, resting his arms on his knees and then his chin on top of his hands as he thinks. “You know, I never really thought that far ahead. I just figured whatever we ended up doing, we’d do together, but I don’t think either of us want to keep risking out lives in these sort of world ending battles, you know?”

“So what, you’re going to give up fighting? Two battle-hardened warriors like you?” Sully scoffs and shoves the last bit of food in her mouth. “That’s a waste.”

And that…that’s a good question. Ranulf looks across the clearing to where Ike is chatting with Gaius and Chrom in what appears to be a rather serious discussion. Likely tactics. Because that’s what Ike is good at, and what people see him as useful for, and really, who was Ranulf kidding thinking that Ike would ever be happy entirely free of battle.

"He’ll probably be a mercenary, like his father,” Ranulf says after a moment. “I think I could give up the battlefield. I’ve never…” He shakes his head. “I’m good at battle, and I’m good at tactics, and knowing how to manage supply lines and survive a siege. But it’s not in my nature, not really. Honestly, I’m kind of glad to be free of that aspect of my home country.”

“What would you be doing if you were still there?” Sully asks.

Ranulf can’t help a small laugh. “Probably trying to convince the prince not to do something stupid. And…I’d be taking over the army in a more complete capacity, I’m sure.”

Sully whistles, the sound low but impressed. “How do you end up the general of an army when battle isn’t in your nature?”

“Just the world we grew up in, I think,” Ranulf says. “And I suppose we don’t all get to pick what we get good at, right?”

“I suppose not,” Sully says.

“You know, Ike’s dad left a general position to be a mercenary too,” Ranulf says. “They’re both humble men. They like battle sure, and they’ve got that innate skill that makes a true warrior, but it always brought them more attention than I think either of them wanted. They weren’t loyal to countries. It’s more about being loyal to their ideals.”

“You know, I never really saw mercenary work as work where you could be loyal to your ideals,” Sully says. “What good at morals when you have to eat?”

“I think for most mercenaries that’s true, but both Greil and Ike were strong enough that they could be picky about their employers. It still…blows my mind sometimes, that when I asked him to join a war on our side, he did, despite all of the friends he knew he would have to fight if he joined me.”

“Well uh…I don’t know much about love or anything like that, but I think he’d follow you anywhere just like you followed him.”

When Ranulf looks over, Sully’s face is flushed almost as bright as her hair, and he latches onto the sight to help break the tension.

“Oh? Do we remind you of someone special?”

“Hell no!” She scrambles to her feet, somehow managing to flush an even deeper shade of red. “I don’t…” Her gaze darts across the fire to Gaius and Chrom.

“Ah, I see,” he says, leaning back and bracing himself on both his hands. “The King already has a Queen so that leaves the thief. A knight and a thief…you know, I knew a couple like that back where I come from, not the most likely pair but they seem to care about each other.”

“What do you know?”

Ranulf looks across the fire at Ike, chest warming. “Good point. What would I know?”

-.-

Tiki grants Ike and Ranulf permission to stay on the mountain. Her rationale is that it’s the safest place to escape from if things go south – apparently if they keep heading east they’ll end up in yet another country.

“Gods do not have the all-reaching power people seem to think they have, not even Grima,” she tells them.

It’s a lesson they’ve both learned well already, but the words haunt Ranulf in the first few hours after their companions depart. They have a tent to share, and the mountain is plentiful with its resources. It helps too that the energy here is pure, the way Serenes Forest had been before the massacre, and now that it’s just the two of them, Ranulf changes into his cat form and stretches out in the grass on his back.

Ike sits down next to him with an affectionate smile and Ranulf lets his tail wag, lazy and slow, in response. That prompts an eye roll and then a hand on his stomach, rubbing through his fur and from there, it’s easy for Ranulf to doze, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun, the clean energy that soaks into his skin and veins, and the scent of the man he’d been missing for far too long. It’s…better, with no one else around. He no longer has to be on guard because he’s in a strange land with strange people.

He may be in a strange land, but he’s just with Ike now, and Ike knows exactly who and what he is.

When he awakens again, he’s shifted back into his human form and Ike’s cape is draped over him. He can smell the scent of fire and cooking meat and when he sits up, he sees Ike placing three rabbits on skewers to set over the fire. Yawning, he gets to his feet and shuffles over before dropping down beside him. Ike doesn’t even hesitate to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close and Ranulf can’t help but smile at the comfort such an action brings him. But still…

"We need to talk about what we’re going to do next,” Ranulf says.

“What do you mean?” Ike asks.

"Do you really want to settle down?” Ranulf asks.

He looks up and sees Ike frown. “I…yes.”

“Then why have you ended up in all these life or death, world-altering battles since you left?” Ranulf asks, keeping his tone as neutral as he can. He’d be lying if he said some of the bitterness he held was completely gone, but he certainly doesn’t feel the same heat he’d had when he first realized Ike was still getting into the conflicts he’d claimed to be running from.

It’s not like Ike to just turn away when people are trouble. The fact that they didn’t ride out alongside Chrom and the others is an anomaly and Ranulf isn’t blind to that.

“I…Ranulf, you’ve given up so much for me, the least I could do is honor your wishes and stay out of battles like this,” Ike says, voice strained.

“I’m not asking you to give up fighting altogether, I just don’t want us to keep risking our lives the way we have in the past,” Ranulf says.

“A stray arrow can kill me just as easily as an old dragon god,” Ike says.

“Maybe so, but I know fighting makes you happy, and helping people makes you happy, and I know that depriving you of those things is something you would let me do, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not asking that of you,” Ranulf says. “I…no more fighting dragon gods. Or goddesses in ancient towers. Or demon kings. But…do you want to be a mercenary?”

Ike goes silent then, and Ranulf wonders how he mis-stepped, especially when he looks up and he sees Ike’s eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Ike…”

“It’s just…” Ike’s voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “I never wanted all of this. I never wanted to be a general of anything, or be given a holy weapon, or fight dark gods and save the world. I just wanted to be a mercenary like my dad and see him retire peacefully. And I’ve felt so selfish for wanting something so simple when I have the power to do more. But it’s what I want more than anything, and sometimes I wonder if all my obligations made me grow up so fast that I never got a chance to grieve the life I never got to have.”

“You can have it now,” Ranulf says, squeezing Ike’s shoulder. “With me. I know it’s not exactly the same as what you wanted, but I would love nothing more than to help you live the life you want and deserve, Ike. Truly.”

“How can you be so certain that we can do this? After everything we’ve been through, after everything that’s gone wrong at every possible turn, how can you believe we can get what we want?” Ike asks.

“Hey, this doesn’t sound like the Ike I know,” Ranulf says, nudging his side. “You’ve been alone far too long if you’re thinking like that. But don’t worry. If we both managed to get this far on our own, I think we’ll get plenty far together, don’t you?”

Ike looks down at him, frown giving way to something a little softer. “When you put it that way, I guess you’re right.”

Ranulf shifts and kisses him, cradling his face between his hands. And if they get a little distracted, well Ranulf’s never been picky about his food being a little well-done.

-.-

Chrom and his allies defeat Grima and Say’ri grants a wide swath of land in southern Valm to Ike as thank you for his help during their civil war. Ike has never been one to ride horses or wyverns, but given their proximity to wyvern breeding grounds, it isn’t long before the two of them build a small farm to take in wyverns disabled by hunters and retraining them as messengers instead of war beasts.

It’s Gerome, one of Chrom’s allies and husband to one of his time-traveling daughters, that helps teach them both how to train and ride them. He’s a quiet man, but he has way with wyverns. Lucina and Ike train together often, and she even offers to join him if he decides to create a mercenary troop, a prospect that makes both Ranulf and Gerome exchange a look and laugh.

“What?” she asks.

“You just don’t realize how similar you both are,” Gerome says in way of explanation before making some sort of excuse about feeding the wyverns and darting out the door.

They settle in, they make friends and exchange letters with those they’ve met along their journeys, and after nearly a year, they receive word from Chrom requesting their presence at the palace as well as payment for the two wyverns they finished training. So, they saddle up and head out together. Ranulf would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his homeland, but he likes what he and Ike have built for themselves here too, and the friends he’s made.

When they arrive at the palace of Ylisse, Chrom takes them to his war room and Ranulf and Ike both stop in shock when they see Volke sitting at the table across from Gaius, speaking in low tones. He glances up and offers a nod before returning to his conversation.

“Sorry for the lack of warning,” Chrom says.

“Who hired you this time?” Ike asks, taking a seat beside Volke. Ranulf sits next to him.

“King Skrimir and Empress Sanaki,” he says. “I had no interest in making enemies with two nations, and so here I am. And I’ve brought guests.”

“Guests?” Ranulf asks.

“Oh right,” Gaius says, getting to his feet and heading for the door that leads to one of the adjoining meeting rooms. He opens it and pokes his head in, calling to its occupants.

“Oh! They’re here!” There’s a thud and then a curse and- “Rennac! Get up!”

Ranulf’s eyes widen as Queen L’Arachel strides through the door with all the grace and dramatic flair he remembers her for and behind her, Rennac follows, pulling some sort of tall object draped in fabric on wheels. He comes to a stop at the head of the table and goes to pull the fabric off, but L’Arachel whacks his hand away with her staff.

“Not yet!” she says. Then she turns to them and scurries around the table, tugging Ranulf to his feet and embracing him before kissing each of his cheeks. “Ranulf, dear, you look wonderful, and Ike, it’s been so long I hope you haven’t forgotten me!”

“I uh…no, I have not,” Ike says, standing and accepting her hug. “I…what are you all doing here?”

"Well, I for one could not hear a tale of true love that runs so deep that both people would give up seeing their friends and families ever again and _not_ do something about it,” L’Arachel says, walking back towards the item at the head of the table. “And then Volke here shows up requesting information on the two of you, and then I had just the most marvelous idea so I sent correspondence to Valm and then-“

“Your Majesty, I don’t think they need all the details,” Rennac says.

L’Arachel sighs. “Alright, I suppose you’re right. I have worked, tirelessly I might add, with the help of Volke and Rausten’s greatest magical minds to create two scrying mirrors and deliver one of them here and one to Gallia.”

“It was a lot of work to transport it across an ocean and a desert, for the record,” Volke says.

“Hush, I said I’d pay you the second half once we were done here,” L’Arachel says before focusing back on Ike and Ranulf. “So what I have here is a communication device. Rennac, if you would be so kind as to-“

Before she can finish, Rennac pulls the fabric away and they’re presented with a large ornate mirror with a frame made of twisting black and gold metals and reflected in the mirror is not their reflections, but rather Mist, Skrimir, Titania, and Boyd.

“Surprise!” Skrimir says, his voice and subsequent laugh echoing through the small room.

Ike steps forward with Ranulf close at his heels. “Is this…”

“Hey move, I can’t see!” Rolf says, wiggling his way into the frame. “Oh whoa, we really can see them!”

Ranulf swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and looks over at Ike, watching as he smiles even as tears begin to run down his cheeks as he reaches out to touch the mirror. Mist does the same, pressing her hand to his through the magical glass.

“Hi, brother. Ranulf. I can’t say I’m not mad at you two running off the way you did, but I’m grateful to Queen L’Arachel for bringing us all together again,” she says.

“How does this even work?” Ike asks.

“Do not ask,” Volke says. “She loves talking about it.”

“Hey!” L’Arachel protests. “I…well, I suppose I shouldn’t bore you all with the details. Your friend Soren helped me figure out the finer details once the mirror was delivered and we haven’t had any issues with it since.”

Skrimir makes a huffing noise and shifts out of frame and a moment later Soren appears, offering nothing more than a nod in greeting.

“I am working on creating smaller ones and tuning them into the one L’Arachel has brought to you so that this one can stay in Gallia but the rest of us can still reach you when we’re traveling,” Soren says. “If…that is alright with both of you.”

“Of course it is,” Ranulf says. “I…am still a little bit in shock if I’m honest.”

“We should probably leave you alone to catch up,” Chrom says. “And of course, we’ll help you transport this back to your home whenever you’re ready. It’s the least we could do.”

“I…” Ike wipes at his eyes and looks over at L’Arachel. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you all.”

“What, you didn’t think you could just go make friends everywhere you went and not have them do something for you in return, did you?” Ranulf asks.

Ike tugs Ranulf close, pressing a rough kiss to his temple. “Thank you for showing me I didn’t have to be alone.”

Ranulf wraps an arm around his waist and rests his head against Ike’s shoulder. “Of course. Now, Skrimir, get back in frame. When did you become King?”

“Well,” Skrimir says, shouldering his way back into frame. “Caineghis is fine, but it’s a bit of a long story…”

“That’s fine,” Ranulf says. “We’ve got time.”


End file.
